The Log of a Cowboy eBook

The cut had drifted away into the herd again during
the arrest, and about half our outfit took the cattle
on to where the wagon camped for noon. McCann
had anticipated an extra crowd for dinner and was
prepared for the emergency. When dinner was over
and the Rangers had packed and were ready to leave,
Hames said to Flood,—­

“Well, Flood, I’m powerful glad I met
you and your outfit. This has been one of the
biggest round-ups for me in a long time. You don’t
know how proud I am over this bunch of beauties.
Why, there’s liable to be enough rewards out
for this crowd to buy my girl a new pair of shoes.
And say, when your wagon comes into Abilene, if I ain’t
there, just drive around to the sheriff’s office
and leave those captured guns. I’m sorry
to load your wagon down that way, but I’m short
on pack mules and it will be a great favor to me;
besides, these fellows are not liable to need any
guns for some little time. I like your company
and your chuck, Flood, but you see how it is; the best
of friends must part; and then I have an invitation
to take dinner in Abilene by to-morrow noon, so I
must be a-riding. Adios, everybody.”

CHAPTER VIII

ON THE BRAZOS AND WICHITA

As we neared Buffalo Gap a few days later, a deputy
sheriff of Taylor County, who resided at the Gap,
rode out and met us. He brought an urgent request
from Hames to Flood to appear as a witness against
the rustlers, who were to be given a preliminary trial
at Abilene the following day. Much as he regretted
to leave the herd for even a single night, our foreman
finally consented to go. To further his convenience
we made a long evening drive, camping for the night
well above Buffalo Gap, which at that time was little
more than a landmark on the trail. The next day
we made an easy drive and passed Abilene early in
the afternoon, where Flood rejoined us, but refused
any one permission to go into town, with the exception
of McCann with the wagon, which was a matter of necessity.
It was probably for the best, for this cow town had
the reputation of setting a pace that left the wayfarer
purseless and breathless, to say nothing about headaches.
Though our foreman had not reached those mature years
in life when the pleasures and frivolities of dissipation
no longer allure, yet it was but natural that he should
wish to keep his men from the temptation of the cup
that cheers and the wiles of the siren. But when
the wagon returned that evening, it was evident that
our foreman was human, for with a box of cigars which
were promised us were several bottles of Old Crow.